


It's Tradition, Superstition, Stupid

by Raven17



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Oral Sex, Paddling, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 11:40:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6703210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven17/pseuds/Raven17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That should have been the end of it, just a ‘nice job’ and a silent chirp about the bruise on TJ’s ass, but the thing is… Oshie’s skin goes a different shade of red under the hot spray,  darker along his neck and ears, just a tinge up his cheeks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Tradition, Superstition, Stupid

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as a short thing about the video of Wilson & Latta smacking Oshie with their sticks before the game. It devolved really quickly into non-con, and not even sort of non-con/coercion, just... straight up non-con.
> 
> It's graphic enough in terms of what's going on, but it's not really graphic in terms of it being non-consensual, if that makes any sense? There's nothing about consent at all. TJ says 'please' at one point, but Wilson takes that to mean he wants it. There is nothing that says TJ doesn't. I suppose you could read this as it all being consensual or discussed beforehand if you want to do some handwaving, but let's face it. It's non-con. And I made Latta perhaps a little worse than Wilson... they're both pretty sleazy and kind of not-so-good guys in this though.
> 
> I'm putting this out there now. Someone, _please_ , I'm _begging_ write this from Oshie's POV. PLEASE. I will love you forever. Haha. I'm such a terrible person. 
> 
> Anyway, yeah. Consider yourself warned, it's non-con, and if that's not your cuppa or think it might be triggering, don't read it.
> 
> Also, if you or someone you know is referenced in the characters tag, please run away now. I feel dirty enough having written this.

He’s not sure why he even does it the first time, and after that it becomes sort of a tradition—he and Latts ‘spanking’ Oshie during warm-ups. When he did it the first time, it was a light tap, and he didn’t think anything of it until Oshie scored later in the game. After that, Latts got into it, and the hits got harder and harder until tonight, when his swat made Oshie wince, and Latts’ brought him to his knees.

It’s the second round of the playoffs, okay? Don’t judge. They needed a little extra, and damn it if the pre-game spanking didn’t work—again. Oshie got the hat trick, including the game-winner in overtime. 

He doesn’t think about it again until they’re celebrating in the locker room and he sees Oshie in the showers, does a double-take at the sight of a mark that’s too light to be a bruise but too dark to be a rash on Oshie’s left ass cheek. Something he doesn’t want to think about curls hot and low in his gut at the sight of it, and he idly wonders if Lauren will just chalk that one up to being part of the game as well. 

He can’t help himself as he walks by. He taps Oshie on the ass, kind of a ‘hey kid, job well done’ pat, and when TJ looks up over his shoulder, he smirks and winks. 

That should have been the end of it, just a ‘nice job’ and a silent chirp about the bruise on TJ’s ass, but the thing is… Oshie’s skin goes a different shade of red under the hot spray, darker along his neck and ears, just a tinge up his cheeks. Oshie’s _blushing_.

He files that away as he finds an unused showerhead, and so what if he takes a slightly colder shower than what he usually likes? 

“Hey, Wilso.” Latts takes the shower next to him, nudges his side as he turns the water on. “Should take it easy on the guy.” He tilts his head towards Oshie. “You think his wife’s gonna be okay with you marking him up like that?”

“You hit him after I did!” He hisses, then grins. “You put him on his knees.”

“I think Lauren’s okay with that.” Latts shrugs, returning the smile. “Remember Halloween?”

He groans. How could he forget? Oshie was in a _collar_ for Halloween, on his knees, and… He turns the water colder and presses a washcloth over his dick under the pretense of washing.

It doesn’t help. He can’t get the image out of his head now, Oshie on his knees, ass red from his hand or his belt, boyish face tilted up and lips parted, begging for his cock…

“Let’s go boys. We take Oshie out to bar to celebrate!” That’s Ovechkin, yelling into the showers for whoever might still be using up the arena’s hot water.

He startles, rinses himself off, the water colder than he remembers. Latts is gone from the shower next to his, most of the guys are done, but he hears a few more showers still running as he drags a towel over his hair and ties it around his waist before going to the locker room.

* * *

The bar crowd is somewhat subdued for a Capitals’ win, not that packed when they get there. It’s a Thursday night, though. A lot of the regulars probably have work in the morning. They don’t stay long, either, just long enough to have a couple beers, get a couple shots in Oshie. 

He’s about to call it a night when he overhears someone—one of his teammates—at the bar teasing Oshie about the pre-game spanking being good luck. He smiles and ducks his head, but looks up when he catches the tail end of Latts’ reply. “…king for celebration like a birthday spanking or something.”

Latts has the most lascivious grin pasted to his face as he says it, and damn it all if Oshie isn’t blushing, all boyish and false innocence like in the showers, ducking his head before shifting and taking another shot. He meets Latts’ eyes over what’s left of the crowd, and Latts waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

He deviates from his path to the door, goes to the bar, sidling up close behind Oshie. “What do you think, Oshie?” He lets his hand surreptitiously graze over Oshie’s ass, not so much touching as just rustling the fabric of his pants. “Should we give you a celebratory hat trick spanking?”

When Oshie says nothing but flushes a deeper shade of red, he gets a hand on Oshie’s elbow and turns him from the bar. “We’re taking the lightweight home. Can’t hold his alcohol since he became a family man.” He calls loudly. A few of their teammates chuckle, Ovie tips his glass farewell, and they head out.

Latts is on Oshie’s other side, and between the two of them, they hustle Oshie out to the car. 

“Just go back to ours.” He tells Latts, who’s in the drivers’ seat. He and Latts drove in together, and Oshie’s car was left at the arena when they all went to the bar. 

Latts raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 

He glances at Oshie, who’s not drunk, but definitely feeling it, warm and easily pliant under his hands as he buckles his seatbelt. He swallows. “Yeah.”

* * *

He presses himself close up behind TJ the second they get inside, gets both palms over the globes of his ass and squeezes lightly through the material of his pants. “Gonna take good care of you…” He murmurs in TJ’s ear. “Spanking for the hat trick… gotta celebrate right.”

Oshie shivers, a full body movement, and… God, he can’t believe he’s getting to do this… he slides shaking hands around Oshie’s waist to fumble at his belt. Once he gets his hands on the metal buckle, it’s like a calm comes over him, his hands stop shaking, and it’s surprisingly natural to undo TJ’s belt, unzip his pants and reach inside to cup him through his boxers.

He gets lost in the sensation of it. TJ is soft and warm under his hand, trembles slightly as he adjusts his grip, sliding his hand between TJ’s legs to feel the weight of his balls through thin cotton. 

He’s glad he had those two beers at the bar. They’ve taken just enough of the edge off, and everything’s so easy. Oshie goes to the sofa without complaint when Latts tells him to, lays his hands on its back and holds on.

“Don’t let go.” Latts says.

Latts pushes Oshie’s boxers down, the elastic stretching wide and cutting slightly into thickly muscled thighs. TJ’s ass is better than he remembers it from the showers, but he didn’t really let himself enjoy the view then. It’s firm and round, jumps just a little under his hand when he rubs his palm over the mark his and Latts’ sticks left.

He means just to give Oshie a few swats, but Latts is right there, standing on TJ’s other side, and TJ’s ass pinks up so nicely under their hands. It turns into a contest to see who can drag the loudest groan out of TJ’s mouth, who can get him to let go of the sofa first, fall to his knees like he did on the ice…

He’s achingly hard in his pants by the time one of Latts’ swats makes TJ stumble to his knees, and he can’t unzip his pants fast enough at the sight. His cock is straining against his undershorts, and he pushes them, along with his pants, down to his knees. 

The reality of Oshie on his knees is even better than the fantasy, and he’s just about to jerk himself when Latts’ voice stops him. 

“He’s being so good for you, Wilso.” Latts says.

His breath catches at the sight of Latts kneeling behind Oshie, one arm wrapped around Oshie’s waist, hand gently jacking TJ’s leaking cock. Latts’ other arm holds TJ up, and it’s beautiful, the way Oshie’s knees are slightly parted on the hardwood floor, the way his cock looks, engorged, leaking and red in contrast to the paler skin of his own body and Latts’ hand… Oshie’s chest is heaving, and the way he looks up…

“Use his mouth, Wilso… he wants you to.” Latts idly strokes Oshie’s cock as he says it, quiet and matter-of-fact.

He takes a step closer, until his foot catches Oshie’s knee. TJ looks up almost shyly from under his lashes, cheeks flushed, light eyes wide and wet. “P-please…” Oshie’s voice is pleading.

He _wants_ , and TJ looks so good. He moans at the feel of it, wet heat encircling his cock as he slowly pushes in, TJ’s lips parting easily for him. “God…”

“He feel good, Wilso?” Latts asks.

He groans out a response, gets a handful of TJ’s hair, still damp at the roots, grips tightly as he thrusts in until he can feel his cock hit the back of Oshie’s throat. Oshie’s mouth is saliva-slick and hot around him, and it feels so good. “Suck…” He manages, consciously loosening his grip in TJ’s hair, petting at his scalp. “God… so good, Oshie…”

He continues talking, but he’s not really sure what he’s saying, a stream of continuous filth pouring from him as he fucks into TJ’s mouth. Oshie’s sucking gently, obviously inexperienced, but it’s so good. 

“Just like that… gonna…” 

TJ groans around him, the vibration enough to send him over the edge. He spills down Oshie’s throat, doesn’t think he’s ever come that hard. He might have blacked out for a minute, but he’s still standing when he hears Latts’ voice, so maybe not.

“Look at him, Wilso… came, just like that, just sucking your cock…” 

He opens his eyes when Latts says that. When did he even close them? He pulls out, drool and come dripping from Oshie’s mouth as he does. Oshie looks debauched, spent, lips chapped and swollen, pink high on his face. There are tears, still damp on Oshie’s cheeks, brimming and slowly trickling from his eyes. 

He looks down, sees Oshie’s cock softening in Latts’ hand, spunk glistening on the muscles of his belly and Latts’ fingers.

It’s almost too much when Latts’ drags his fingers through the spunk on Oshie’s belly and brings his hand to TJ’s mouth, pressing fingers inside. He just watches as TJ licks Latts’ fingers, takes thick, rasping breaths around them. 

“Oh, God…” He groans, thick and spent as he leans on the back of the sofa.

“Go upstairs and get to bed, Wilso, I’ll take Oshie home.”

He thinks he nods as he stumbles towards the stairs. That sounds good. He can’t think of anything beyond what a great night it’s been, between the overtime win and the mind-blowing orgasm he just had. All he wants now is to lay down on cool sheets, pass out, and wake up next to Latts in the morning.

And that’s what he does.

**Author's Note:**

> This was not beta'ed, and I think it reads a little different towards the end than at the beginning but I'm not sure how to fix that and not sure I want to take the time to try and work it out.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> And in further closing, another plea for someone to please write this from Oshie's POV. PLEASE PLEASE _PLEASE_.


End file.
